Part-Time Superheroes
by jaqueline-littlebird
Summary: Due to lack of superviallains, being an Avenger is not a full-time job. They work some other job besides, and pay rent to Tony Stark, because heroes do not sponge.


_Disclaimer:_ Avengers work for Marvel, not for me.

_Music:_ "Rent" by Pet Shop Boys, "A Hard Day's Night" by The Beatles, "Why Aye Man" by Mark Knopfler, or "Bruttosozialprodukt" by Geier Sturzflug

Written for a prompt on Avengerkink LJ: The Avengers work normal jobs and pay rent for living at Stark Tower.

**Part-Time Superheroes**

Steve sat at the living room table on the communal floor in Stark Tower, listening to Banner chopping vegetables in the kitchen, while evaluating his students' arts maps. His own rooms had a spacious desk, but after all those decades in the ice, the retired captain preferred not to be alone if he could help it. He would also have preferred to rent an apartment and be his own man, not sponging off anyone, but that was out of the question in New York City on a substitute teacher's wage.

SHIELD would have paid him handsomely, but after learning of their secret weapons program and that near-disastrous tesserract experiment, he wanted nothing to do with them any more unless the world was in danger. Which it rarely was. There simply weren't so many supervillains around, and a man needed something to do, hence the job.

He could have re-enlisted with the Army, they would have taken him gladly, but that was out of the question as well after Bruce had told him about General Ross.

Bruce, who now ran „The Green Place", a vegetarian Indian organic healthfood restaurant in East Village. How that man could stand cooking some more at home in his spare time, Steve could not understand, but he'd be the last one to complain. Banner's menus were perfect and delicious, something that could rarely be said about Tony's takeaway burgers or lukewarm arriving pizzas, his own amateur sandwiches, or the dishes any of the others who took turns with kitchen duty could come up with. Maybe with the exception of Loki, when they'd have barbecue in summer and he'd put all his experience from centuries of campfire cooking on hunting expeditions into it.

Aroma of frying garlic and ginger whafted from the kitchen. Banner had opened that restaurant with his savings after a row with Stark over some project, when he'd quit his research job with Stark Industries, and took pride in paying the full New York rent for the rooms he still occupied in the tower, just to prove to Tony that he could. Roasted onions and cashews now. Steve's mouth watered. Sighing, he graded little Bartholomew's daring and ingenious but uncalled for work „Impressions of Pantyless Person on Xerox" an F, neatly collected his papers and prepared to lay out the table.

The other Avengers trickled in, Natasha first of all, still sleepy-eyed, making a beeline for the coffee machine. So she was on late shift this week again at the night club where she worked as barkeeper. On other days, she'd often arrive from work on Loki's arm. Steve was convinced she still worked full-time for SHIELD, was simply assigned to that club to spy on certain people, and the former villain assisted her by bringing the more fishy of his business partners for drinks to loosen their tongues. Sometimes, the super soldier regretted that alcohol did nothing for him. The others praised 'Tasha's skill with cocktails; only Tony usually complained her longdrinks were watered down.

Stark himself arrived in a group with Pepper and Loki, all three still in business attire. Today, the men both wore Armani. Probably Loki's tailor couldn't keep up with the pace he discarded and replaced his made-to-measure suits. („You can't wear one suit twice to the same customer in my line of business, Steve.", the trickster had once told him. „You don't want to imply you needed to be thrifty." Thrifty? Each of the things cost more than his own monthly wage.)

„Hi, Steve!" Miss Potts greeted him warmly, „How was your day?", while at the same time Tony yelled: „Hey there, Spandex! Kid van Gogh discovered yet? Oh wait, bad reference; I forgot you still need to catch up with the modern stuff." Mercifully, Miss Potts dragged the inventor away to feed him appetizers, sparing Steve the need to respond.

Meanwhile, the Asgardian (Jotunheimian?) of the party had slumped down on the couch, sprawling his long legs. Steve could still not comprehend how that man had wound up with the Avengers in such short a time, but then, what did he know about Aliens and their politics? He had been coerced into aiding the Chitauri, that much was sure, and then despite being innocent had insisted on paying off all property damage caused, and a „wergild" to victims or survivors. Thor had said Asgardian honour demanded that, guilty or not. Three months on Earth, and the god of lies had all his due paid off. Half a year, and now he was in a competition with billionnaire Stark about who was wealthier. Wall Street had caused the great depression of Steve's childhood. Today it was making people rich again – those who knew how to manipulate, at least.

„Captain of America, I wish you a good evening." the Asgardian opened conversation formally. That did not bode well.

„Hi, Loki. You ok?" Steve answered lamely.

„I am doing well, thank you." the immortal answered with a sad smile. „Say, do you still pay into the teachers' union pension plan?"

Steve was not caught off guard. He'd expected as much. Short time ago, his pension plan had barely made it out of Greek gouvernment bonds, losing 25% overall. Not that he expected to retire any time soon, but some older colleagues had broken down and cried. They would have to sell their homes, prices falling, just as many of his friends' and neighbours' parents had needed to back in the days. And here sat one of the men responsible, wasn't he?

„Once more, I suggest you pull out there." said the 'god' turned hedgefund manager.

„You said so before. Why now?" the super-soldier asked.

„They are heavily invested in Hammer Industries. Unfortunately, the new Hammer h-pad won't match the StarkPad, even though it's cheaper, but their advertising can't compete. Furthermore, your pension fund hedged against the Icelandic crown's exchange rate towards the British pound going down, but not the Swiss franc ..."

Steve's head swam. He was rescued by Clint appearing in the doorway.

„Evening. Am I late, guys?" He glared at Loki. Those two were still not on good terms.

Tasha darted over, but stopped short of touching his soiled coverall. „You'd better hurry cleaning up, we're almost ready" she informed him.

„Hey, Locksley, what happened today?" Stark shouted from the other side of the large living room. „Giraffe got an enema, finally?"

Steve had to admit the smell was rather strong, overlaying even the cardamome and cilantro from the kitchen. Hawkeye missed the circus of his childhood and had taken a job at the city zoo, mostly mucking out stables, but it made him happy.

The archer departed, it didn't take long before the last one of the party showed up: Thor himself, crown prince of Asgard, mighty wielder of Mjölnir and so on. Student of meteorology most recently, at doctor Foster's suggestion, since he could call the thunder and the rain. Little did she know statistics of atmospheric pressure patterns were not his cup of tea. Law studies hadn't been either (his brother's suggestion), and neither the job with a demolition crew. Thor was, of course, excellent at demolishing decrepit buildings. He just didn't take orders well, and be it from structural engineers. Only the bouncer job at Tasha's night club had been worse, amounting to some perforated walls and several lawsuits. But his latest student job seemed to agree with the thunderer. Grinning broadly, he careened in the doorway, drunkenly singing his latest commercial for the Asgaard brewery, waiting for his brother to catch him. Steve was happy to help out. That beer didn't taste too bad.


End file.
